#thewriterain

[thewriterain]

he is laughing, eating yogurt covered in an array of toppings - toppings that i've chosen before, and i know he likes too - and i'm laughing along when it hits me just how much i like him. this isn't falling in love. falling implies something that didn't happen with purpose, with choice. no, this is growing into love. this is grabbing his hand and choosing to walk through this together, whether we smile or get hurt or everything in between.

oh god, i’m in love again // thewriterain

[yoojeongyeonnie]

Min !! How have you been <33 it's been a while hehe 😊🥺✨

Yeah it's been a while Ain. 💖 I'm doing good! How about you? How are you? Also your writings, I'm fan of your writings💓 I love them! 🤭❣️

[thewriterain]

i have never been the girl that counts the months of a relationship.

that's a lie, by the way. i have always been the kind of girl that keeps count, that may not say anything but tracks the passing seasons quietly, grateful for another month that passes.

when i was younger, it was an obsession. it's been a month, wow! i would say to my friends, to the person i was dating. as i got older, the obsession lessened -- can you believe it's been 6 months? -- but persisted.

maybe because when i was younger i was acutely aware that many relationships don't last long, and i wanted to make sure every moment counted. maybe when i was younger i knew subconsciously that these weren't going to be long relationships, because it never occurred to me that i would count the years instead of months. i think i always knew that the relationships were temporary and would eventually end.

when i made it to a year with one of my exes, it felt like such an achievement. a year, i'd thought, but it had taken too much effort and felt like it had taken ridiculously long to get there. i'd wondered, at the time, if it was supposed to feel like that.

you asked me once if i counted and i said no. a half-lie, because i do, but it doesn't consume me as much as when i was younger. i think it's worth noting, but doesn't need to be celebrated with large gestures. with you it seems silly to keep track of months when i look at you and see years, when i can picture lifetimes with you. (i think i would find you in every universe we live in, but that's a story for another day). with you, it felt like i blinked and half a year had passed us by; was it not just yesterday i stole your plushie and fell asleep on your shoulder? was it not recently that i was secretly trying to spend time with you in hopes that something might happen?

doesn't time pass so strangely? god, but i don't think there's anyone else i'd want to pass this time with.

[thewriterain]

you walked into my life unexpectedly and i decided that i didn’t want you to go.

so please,

stay.

i still want to come home to you.

i want to wake up next to you,

and fall asleep in your arms, all comfy,

and squeeze your hand thrice.

i want to hug you and have you lift me up,

and tug on your sleeve and go, ‘nee, nee’.

and tell you dumb jokes.

i want to watch you smile at me all the time,

and talk about our days in terms of stabs.

and yes,

i want to keep living with you.

i want to stay for a very long time.

[thewriterain]

lately i've been thinking of how unfair it must be to you, to have to wait for something with no promise of when.

lately i've been wondering if i deserve this patience, this reverence from you. when you say you miss me, it makes me happy that you do, but there's an ache in my chest when i see the look on your face.

when i start to feel this way, i go outside or look out my window and stare at the sky. you know how we both like to look at pretty skies? whether day or night, sunny or not, there is a sort of peace in knowing that no matter how separated we are, we are under the same sky and stars.

and when i start to doubt, i replay your voice messages and listen to how gentle you sound. i let your words wash over me until i am reassured once more, and i start hoping again.

one day. one day we'll get to see each other and i will hold you and feel comfy again and watch that smile of yours spread across your face right in front of me. i will kiss you and squeeze your hand and say i missed you, my love.

i miss you all the time.

[thewriterain]

tag yourself: my friends edition iii

kaitlyn: soft but ready to throw hands, sweet-smelling hair, multiple plushies, secretive, watching tv dramas, dresses casually but always looks good, hugs all their friends

nayli: dyed hair, open windows, impulse decisions, closets full of clothes, vodka shots, loud music, always busy with work or assignments, tries their best to show up for family dinners

amanda: combat boots and slip dresses, online shopping, scared of insects, multiple dms, tends to run a little late, likes making playlists, heart-shaped sunglasses

dida: dishevelled hair, easy to get along with, a total jock, overly generous, a little sad inside, flirts with anyone and everyone, insomniac, studies psychology, endless typos in everything

jamie: easy-going, tries hard and it pays off, always on top of things somehow, well-liked, constantly finding new things to do, shares their class notes, striped shirts, swears without using swear words

[thewriterain]

if you wanted something untouched, then i am not for you. i may be untouched in the most technical way, but the truth is i was once marked by the touches of people who didn't deserve to. sometimes i catch a glance of myself in the mirror and swear my neck was still covered in dark patches, that my lips were still tainted with his taste and that no matter how much i scrubbed at my skin, his touches still lingered. i am not pure. i have the stains of multiple people sunk into my skin, and only time has allowed me to shed them. i regret it, i regret it, i regret it. but don't you dare come to me wishing for purity, for untouched beauty. i am not; i will never be. instead i'm an amalgamation of mistakes, of things i didn't fully agree to. i'm a fucking mess deep down but you have stayed, and i wish for you to stay longer. please don't let the darkness within scare you away. please accept me, this bundle of anger and kindness and anxiety and trying. i know i have been used and thrown away and i'm probably not the person you wish i were. but please don't let us fuck this up just yet.

a text i won’t send

[thewriterain]

i stare at the photos of you in my gallery and think, oh god, i love you. i love you when you’re smiling and i love you when you’re crying. i love you when you’re here and i love you when you’re away. i love you when i’m angry at you, upset with you, sobbing over you. nothing could ever really make me stop loving you - because i know you love me too.

it’s unequivocal, irrefutable // thewriterain